SCENE I.--MRS. CLERIMONT'S _Room.

_Enter_ MRS. CLERIMONT, FAINLOVE _(carrying her lap-dog), and_ JENNY.

_Jen._ Madam, the footman that's recommended to you is below, if your ladyship will please to take him.

_Mrs. Cler._ O fie; don't believe I'll think on't. It is impossible he should be good for anything--The English are so saucy with their liberty--I'll have all my lower servants French. There cannot be a good footman born out of an absolute monarchy.

_Jen._ I am beholden to your ladyship for believing so well of the maidservants in England.

_Mrs. Cler._ Indeed, Jenny, I could wish thou wert really French; for thou art plain English in spite of example. Your arms do but hang on, and you move perfectly upon joints; not with a swim of the whole person--But I am talking to you, and have not adjusted myself to-day: What pretty company a glass is, to have another self! [_Kisses the dog._] To converse in soliloquy! To have company that never contradicts or displeases us! The pretty visible echo of our actions! [_Kisses the dog._] How easy, too, it is to be disencumbered with stays, where a woman has anything like shape; if no shape, a good air--But I look best when I'm talking. [_Kisses the lap-dog in_ FAINLOVE'S _arms._

_Jen._ You always look well.

_Mrs. Cler._ For I'm always talking, you mean so; that disquiets thy sullen English temper; but I don't really look so well when I am silent. If I do but offer to speak, then I may say that--Oh, bless me, Jenny, I am so pale, I am afraid of myself--I have not laid on half red enough--What a dough-baked thing was I before I improved myself, and travelled for beauty! However, my face is very prettily designed to-day.

_Fain._ Indeed, madam, you begin to have so fine an hand, that you are younger every day than other.

_Mrs. Cler._ The ladies abroad used to call me Mademoiselle Titian, I was so famous for my colouring; but prithee, wench, bring me my black eyebrows out of the next room.[92]

_Jen._ Madam, I have 'em in my hand.

_Fain._ It would be happy for all that are to see you to-day, if you could change your eyes, too.

_Mrs. Cler._ Gallant enough--no, hang it, I'll wear these I have on; this mode of visage takes mightily. I had three ladies last week came over to my complexion. I think to be a fair woman this fortnight, till I find I'm aped too much--I believe there are an hundred copies of me already.

_Jen._ Dear madam, won't your ladyship please to let me be of the next countenance you leave off?

_Mrs. Cler._ You may, Jenny; but I assure you it is a very pretty piece of ill-nature, for a woman that has any genius for beauty to observe the servile imitation of her manner, her motion, her glances, and her smiles.

_Fain._ Ay, indeed, madam, nothing can be so ridiculous as to imitate the inimitable.

_Mrs. Cler._ Indeed, as you say, Fainlove, the French mien is no more to be learned than the language, without going thither. Then, again, to see some poor ladies who have clownish, penurious, English husbands, turn and torture their old clothes into so many forms, and dye 'em into so many colours, to follow me--What say'st, Jenny? What say'st? Not a word?

_Jen._ Why, madam, all that I can say----

_Mrs. Cler._ Nay, I believe, Jenny, thou hast nothing to say any more than the rest of thy country-women. The splenatics speak just as the weather lets 'em; they are mere talking barometers. Abroad the people of quality go on so eternally, and still go on, and are gay and entertain. In England discourse is made up of nothing but question and answer. I was t'other day at a visit, where there was a profound silence, for, I believe, the third part of a minute.

_Jen._ And your ladyship there?

_Mrs. Cler._ They infected me me with their dulness; who can keep up their good humour at an English visit? They sit as at a funeral, silent in the midst of many candles. One, perhaps, alarms the room--"'Tis very cold weather"--then all the mutes play their fans till some other question happens, and then the fans go off again.

_Boy._ Madam, your spinet-master is come.

_Mrs. Cler._ Bring him in; he's very pretty company.

_Fain._ His spinet is; he never speaks himself.

_Mrs. Cler._ Speak, simpleton! What then; he keeps out silence, does not he?--Oh, sir, you must forgive me; I have been very idle. Well, you pardon me. [_Master bows._] Did you think I was perfect in the song? [_Bows_]--but pray let me hear it once more. Let us see it----[_Reads._

SONG.

With studied airs, and practised smiles, Flavia my ravished heart beguiles; The charms we make, are ours alone, Nature's works are not our own; Her skilful hand gives every grace, And shows her fancy in her face. She feeds with art an amourous rage, Nor fears the force of coming age.

You sing it very well; but, I confess, I wish you'd give more in to the French manner--Observe me hum it à-la-Française.

"With studied airs," &c.

The whole person, every limb, every nerve sings. The English way is only being for that time a mere musical instrument, just sending forth a sound without knowing they do so. Now I'll give you a little of it, like an Englishwoman: You are to suppose I've denied you twenty times, looked silly, and all that--then, with hands and face insensible--I have a mighty cold.

"With studied airs" &c.

_Enter_ SERVANT.

_Ser._ Madam, Captain Clerimont and a very strange gentleman are come to wait on you.

_Mrs. Cler._ Let him and the very strange gentleman come in.

_Fain._ Oh! madam, that's the country gentleman I was telling you of.

_Enter_ HUMPHRY _and_ CAPTAIN CLERIMONT.

_Fain._ Madam, may I do myself the honour to recommend Mr. Gubbin, son and heir to Sir Harry Gubbin, to your ladyship's notice?

_Mrs. Cler._ Mr. Gubbin, I am extremely pleased with your suit; 'tis antique, and originally from France.

_Hump._ It is always locked up, madam, when I'm in the country. My father prizes it mightily.

_Mrs. Cler._ 'Twould make a very pretty dancing suit in a masque. Oh! Captain Clerimont, I have a quarrel with you.

_Enter_ SERVANT.

_Ser._ Madam, your ladyship's husband desires to know whether you see company to-day or not?

_Mrs. Cler._ Who, you clown?

_Ser._ Mr. Clerimont, madam.

_Mrs. Cler._ He may come in.

_Enter_ CLERIMONT, SEN.

_Mrs. Cler._ Your very humble servant.

_Cler. Sen._ I am going to take the air this morning in my coach, and did myself the honour, before I went, to receive your commands, finding you saw company.

_Mrs. Cler._ At any time when you know I do, you may let me see you. Pray, how did you sleep last night?--If I had not asked him that question they might have thought we lay together. [_Aside. Here_ FAINLOVE, _looking through a perspective, bows to_ CLERIMONT, SEN.]--But captain, I have a quarrel with you--I have utterly forgot those three coupees[93] you promised to come again and show me.

_Cler. Sen._ Then, madam, you have no commands this morning?

_Mrs. Cler._ Your humble servant, sir--But, oh! [_As she is going to be led by the Captain._] Have you signed that mortgage to pay off my Lady Faddle's winnings at ombre?

_Cler. Sen._ Yes, madam.

_Mrs. Cler._ Then all's well; my honour's safe. [_Exit_ CLERIMONT, SEN.] Come, captain, lead me this step, for I'm apt to make a false one; you shall show me.

_Cler._ I'll show you, madam; 'tis no matter for a fiddle; I'll give you 'em the French way, in a teaching tune. Pray, more quick--Oh, mademoiselle, que faites-vous?--A moi--There again--Now slide, as it were, with and without measure--There you outdid the gipsy; and you have all the smiles of the dance to a tittle.

_Mrs. Cler._ Why, truly, I think that the greatest part. I have seen an English woman dance a jig with the severity of a vestal virgin.

_Hump._ If this be French dancing and singing, I fancy I could do it. Haw! haw! [_Capers aside._

_Mrs. Cler._ I protest, Mr. Gubbin, you have almost the step, without any of our country bashfulness. Give me your hand. Haw! haw! So, so; a little quicker. That's right, haw!--Captain, your brother delivered this spark to me, to be diverted here till he calls for him. [_Exit_ CLERIMONT.

_Hump._ This cutting so high makes one's money jingle confoundedly. I'm resolved I'll never carry above one pocketful hereafter.

_Mrs. Cler._ You do it very readily; you amaze me.

_Hump._ Are the gentlemen in France generally so well bred as we are in England? Are they, madam, ha?--But, young gentleman, when shall I see this sister? Haw! haw! haw! Is not the higher one jumps the better?

_Fain._ She'll be mightily taken with you, I'm sure. One would not think 'twas in you--you're so gay, and dance so very high.

_Hump._ What should ail me? Did you think I was wind-galled? I can sing, too, if I please; but I won't till I see your sister--This is a mighty pretty house.

_Mrs. Cler._ Well, do you know that I like this gentleman extremely? I should be glad to inform him--But were you never in France, Mr. Gubbin?

_Hump._ No; but I'm always thus pleasant, if my father's not by.--[_To_ FAINLOVE.] I protest I'd advise your sister to have me: I'm for marrying her at once. Why should I stand shilly-shally, like a country bumpkin?

_Fain._ Mr. Gubbin, I daresay she'll be as forward as you; we'll go in and see her. [_Apart._

_Mrs. Cler._ Then he has not yet seen the lady he is in love with! I protest very new and gallant--Mr. Gubbin, she must needs believe you a frank person--Fainlove, I must see this sister, too, I'm resolved she shall like him.

There needs not time true passion to discover; The most believing is the most a lover.